a spider in the hand (is worth two in the bush)
by IWantYouInMyLife
Summary: Peter gets hurt. Tony freaks out. Rhodey is done with everybody's bullshit. Done.


Rhodes watched the scene unfold without as much as a single word — knowing better than to get involved in that mess, despite having many thoughts about what the better course of action would've been. All he did was lean against the doorway, finding a comfortable position to settle and get ready for a long night ahead.

Tony wasn't there, and it's naive to believe that Peter would settle for anyone else. Even if anyone else was the Avengers.

Under his breath, Rhodes mumbled to FRIDAY. "Does Tones know about this?"

The phone in his hand flashed with a response. "Mr Stark is already on his way, sir. ETA: 13 minutes."

"Shit," Rhodes cursed to himself, banging his head against the doorway, hoping for a mid-concussion, at least. Pepper had warned Tony of the importance of his presence in Boston — she was going to flip her shit when she learned that he had bailed the second Peter got hurt.

Although, to be fair, it was nothing less than they should expect when it came to Tony. These days, Peter Parker was all of Tony's impulse control — with him out of commission, nothing less than the apocalypse was impossible.

"Lay off, Nat," Peter grumbled, shoving Natasha's hand away and sitting up. "I told you, I'm fine."

"With all due respect, Mr Parker," the doctor reasoned, holding a clipboard and looking at it with a displeased face. "Your condition is far from what could be considered '_fine_.'"

"I have a good healing factor," Peter contested, doing a poor job at attempting to roll his eyes.

Steve frowned, crossing his arms over his chest. "Doesn't mean you don't need to get medical attention," he said, pretty much ignoring how hypocritical it was of him to be spewing that speech when he always gave the medical staff the hardest time whenever he was the one on that stretcher.

Unsurprisingly, the kid wasn't ready to back down. When Steve tried to grab his wrist, Peter pulled back his arm, stubbornness written on every line of his face as he, instead, sat down, swinging his legs off the bed, and clearly getting ready to make a run for it.

From there on, Rhodes turned off the fight happening, keeping his eyes on the elevator doors while hoping that Tony arrived sooner rather than later. It was useless to argue with Peter in that state, and Rhodes had a lifetime of trying to sway Tony's bad decisions to know a lost fight when he saw one.

It was only when Steve started to turn a weird shade of red and Natasha looked ready to knock the kid down that Tony graced them with his presence, stepping off the elevator with his jaw clenched and a stormy look on his face that Rhodes had yet to get used to seeing there. That particular expression — full of hidden concern and desperation — was reserved for that scrawny kid alone and no one else.

Tony acknowledged Rhodes presence with nothing more than a curt nod, side-stepping him and strolling inside the room, his eyes instantly glued to Peter's bruises and cuts. He stopped a few steps away from the bed, riping the sunglasses off his face and clearing his throat pointedly.

Instantly, Peter froze. The others, having turned on their spots to look at Tony, probably never noticed it, but Rhodes did, and it was impossible to miss the wince that quickly passed across his face or the way his grip on the mattress tightened until his knuckles turned white.

"Is there a problem here?" Tony asked casually, in sharp contrast to his appearance.

"Hey, Tony," Steve greeted, sounding rather tired. "We're trying to convince Peter to lie down and let the doctors have a look at his wounds."

"Is that so?" Tony hummed, nodding in agreement to Steve's words, although his sharp stare never as much as wavered from its place. Peter still had his head down, glaring at the floor, so Tony stared at the top of Peter's head. "Well, that just won't do, now, will it?"

Tony paused, letting the words hang for a minute. When he spoke again, the tone was completely different, his voice going low and demanding. "Lie down," he ordered, and Peter's head snapped up so quickly it was a wonder it didn't roll right off his neck.

The others seemed perplexed by Tony's instant change, and Steve looked ready to explain in painful detail why it wouldn't work to order Peter around, only the instant Peter made eye contact with the pissed off engineer, he sighed and promptly did as requested, his head on the pillow and arms straight alongside his body.

The '_yes, sir_' was so heavily implied, Rhodes was surprised it hadn't been uttered out loud.

Tony turned to the doctor — a young, blond woman who was getting more confused by the second — and waved a hand across Peter's perfectly still form. "Proceed," he said, bypassing the useless duo and looming over Peter.

The woman paused. "I need to draw blood, check his overall physical state, and wrap his ribs," she explained, probably trying to indicate that it would take a while and she wasn't sure of Peter's continued compliance.

Tony merely raised an eyebrow. "Well? What are you waiting for, then?"

Her eyes widened and she nodded, hurrying to fetch a syringe.

"Tony," Peter began, cautious, his hands playing with the green sheets covering the stretcher.

"Save it, kid," Tony interrupted, making a 'zip it' motion with his hands. Even from his place still leaning against the doorway, Rhodes could still feel the tension rolling off of waves from Tony, successfully conveying all of his displeasure with the situation. "Don't go digging a bigger hole for yourself."

And that was it. Peter dipped his chin down, doing a good impersonation of a properly chastised child, and quietly allowed the doctor to go over all the shit she needed, moving whenever she asked. The picture of the perfect patient.

Natasha looked confused, analyzing the situation with barely disguised curiosity, but Steve, well, Steve was switching back and forth between Tony and Peter, a deep V line marring his forehead, his jaw dropped. Obviously, that hadn't been the outcome he had expected when Tony arrived.

"What the hell?" He asked the room at large, although no one made any move to give him a response. He turned to Natasha, silently asking with his eyes what the fuck was going on, but she only shook her head, also at a loss for words.

"Mr Parker," the doctor said, stepping back a little. "I need you to remove your shirt."

"Sure," the kid agreed easily, grabbing the hem of his shirt and pulling it over his head. His torso looked a mess — a heap of purple, green, and red bruises covering his chest and ribs.

Tony hissed lowly, reaching for the naked skin only to stop inches from his destination, visibly containing himself. "Kid…"

Peter winced again. "It's nothing. It doesn't hurt or anything. Just got hit a couple of times with a—" Whatever he saw on Tony's face was enough to get him to bite down on his next words. "I have a… healing factor?"

Tony narrowed his eyes. "How convenient for us, hun?"

"Please sit down, Mr Parker. Facing me, please."

"Alright," Peter said, and it was impossible to tell from his face if he was feeling any pain. The kid was disturbingly good at masquerading his emotions.

After a few moments of feelings his ribs and asking a few questions, the doctor explained that she would need to wrap Peter's torso. The minute she did, the calm broke.

"Look, I'm good. In a couple of hours, I won't even feel any of this," Peter explained, trying to reason with the doctor. "There's really no need to—"

Tony laid a possessive hand on Peter's thigh, squeezing for a moment and then releasing it, and Peter ran out of words. "You're fucking purple, kid. You have three broken ribs," Tony said, gritting his teeth. "I don't wanna hear another word coming from your mouth."

"Tony, it seems way worse than it is," Peter rebutted, pleading with his eyes. "I know it looks bad right now, but I promise that this is nothing, okay? I just want to go to bed and watch Harry Potter."

Tony snapped. "Well, you're okay? Great. Awesome. Fucking amazing. How about not getting in front of the psychopath the new time, hun?" He exclaimed, annnnnd there was the Tony Rhodes knew and loved. A quick mouth and a temper. "I leave for three days. Three days, Peter. Is it too much to ask for you to stay in the tower for three days while I fix things in Boston?"

"Was I supposed to let the others go without me?"

"Yes! That's exactly what you should've done, for God's sake. It wasn't a dangerous enough situation to require your presence, or I would've flown back to help."

The doctor looked unsure whether to interrupt or run out of the room, forcing Rhodes to hold back a smile. Shit, even after all those years, it was still hilarious to see how people reacted to Tony whenever he lost his cool in public.

Peter didn't look so amused. "I either need to hide from danger and waste away at the lab because I'm too delicate, or I fling myself at the more dangerous threats with you. You have to pick a speech, Tony. I can't do both." He provoked, flailing his arms around. "Which is it?"

"Don't give me that," Tony warned. "You know very well which would be."

"Well, I don't have these powers just to hide behind Captain America's ginormous muscles like a coward," Peter snapped.

_Oh, he did not go there._

Shit, kid.

Tony tilted his head. "My muscles no longer good enough for you, kid?"

That time Peter rolled his eyes, and he did good. Rhodes barked a laugh, unable to hold it back. "Oh my god, Tony. For the love of— I can't. Whatever. Fine," he said, turning to the doctor. "Wrap me. Please, just do it. I'm far too hungry for this."

"Hey!" Tony yelped, losing all the respect he had earned with his earlier performance. "Don't think that I— Wait, you're hungry?" A pause. "What do you want to eat?"

Peter pouted. "I'm so so hungry. People kept saying I needed to wait to eat, Tony. I want ice cream. And pizza. Definitely ice cream and pizza."

Tony didn't lose a beat. "FRIDAY, you hear that? Make it happen."

"Copy that, sir," the AI responded readily.

"If you haven't eaten all day, then it might be better if you remained on—"

"No!' Peter screamed over her, panicked. "No, Tony. I'm good for pizza. If you try to withhold the pizza from me, I might have a breakdown and start killing people myself. I swear, I'm unpredictable when underfed, who knows what I'm capable of."

"Yeah, I'm sure you're one pizza away from becoming a villain, Peter," Tony deadpanned, but there's a small smile stretching his lips despite his better sense, and he ignored the doctor recommendation without another word, allowing his previous order to stand.

Peter clearly realized that as well, 'cause he shut his mouth and allowed the doctor to wrap his ribs without another word, his eyes locked with Tony's, an entire silent conversation going on between them — Peter's eyes softening and pleading, Tony's shinning with fondness and poorly concealed exasperation.

"Alright," she said, taking off her gloves and signing something on her clipboard. She's obviously done with their particular brand of crazy. "That's it for today. Please come back for a checkup tomorrow, Mr Parker. Otherwise, unless you have a question for me, you're free to go."

"No! No, I'm good. No question. None. Thanks," Peter rushed to say, jumping off the bed and rushing to put his shirt back on, looking as though he was afraid some other doctor would come out of nowhere asking for more tests.

Rhodes watched as the clueless duo snapped out of their daze, making room for the doctor to leave the room. As soon as Tony grabbed Peter's bicep and began to march them out of the room, doing a horrible job at concealing his eagerness to have Peter all to himself, and probably already going over the speech he wanted to unleash on Peter the second they were alone, Steve stopped them, grabbing Tony's bicep much in the same way as he was doing to the kid.

"Tony, what the hell was that?" He asked, as always, demanding answers he had no right to, doing that thing with his chin where he looked down upon whoever was speaking to him in a ridiculous attempt at looking more menacing. It was just sad, to be honest.

Before Tony could respond, Peter reached out with his free arm and pried Steve's fingers from Tony's arm, one by one, not even blinking when the Captain tried to tighten his hold, only removing them faster. "Please keep your hands to yourself, Cap," Peter asked, and although his tone and words were polite, it was impossible to miss the gleam of challenge in his eyes.

"Peter, we argued with you for hours—"

Peter shrugged. "Not really fond of medical care," he said, unrepentant. "I don't have the best memories of hospitals, to be completely honest."

"You didn't seem to have a problem when Tony got here, though," Natasha pointed out sharply.

Peter grinned. "What can I say? He's the boss. Gotta keep my job, yes?"

Her expression turned murderous, zooming in on Tony's hold on his arm. "Is he— because you don't have to feel like you owe him anything, Peter," she explained, probably thinking she was onto something there with her crappy motivational bullshit.

At that, Peter look became serious again. "If I can get Captain to let go, I could get Tony to let go too, if I wanted, Natasha. Don't be ridiculous," he explained, leaning in closer to Tony, instead. He looked up. "FRIDAY, how about that pizza?"

"Waiting for you at the penthouse, Peter," was the clear answer.

"Oh, thank God. You're the best!" He exclaimed, once again back at happy. "Let's go, Tony! Pizza and ice cream. Pizza and ice cream, man."

Forgetting himself in the excitement, he began to leave without another word, and because Tony refused to relinquish his hold on the kid for even a fucking minute, he got dragged along. He didn't seem too upset by that, though, happily waving at him when he crossed the doorway.

"Bye, Rhodey! Good to see you. Bring the suit around for some upgrades one of these days! I can give you new lasers with—"

"Pizza!" Peter interrupted, all but shoving Tony inside the elevator. "Bye-bye, James. Thanks for the help!" He screamed while the doors were closing, and then they're off.

"What was that?" Steve asked, turning to him for answers, and hell no, Rhodes is not staying there for the interrogation. Hell no. He did his job there, time to stage his exit.

He slapped Steve on the shoulder, giving the man his best non-puzzled look. "You know what, Cap? I have no clue. You know what they say, though, a spider in the hand is worth two in the bush," he said very seriously, then, as the man tried to process the words, spun around in his place and walked out of the room, mumbling to FRIDAY. "Please get me out of here before Frank-the-rabbit there starts to make sense."

On cue, the elevator doors opened for him. Rhodes rushed in, sighing in relief. "I told Tony that you can't unfreeze people without consequences, man. You just can't." He shook his head. "You just can't."

* * *

**Author's Note: I have no excuses for this. Just needed to write this scene so bad. I've arranged a therapist, alright? Don't judge me.**


End file.
